


I Don't Know Which Way's Home

by gay_writes_with_mac



Category: Beetlejuice - Perfect/Brown & King, Ghostbusters (2016)
Genre: Abandonment, Absent Parents, Gen, Holtzmann-centric, Loneliness, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-16
Updated: 2019-12-16
Packaged: 2021-02-25 23:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,202
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21823738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gay_writes_with_mac/pseuds/gay_writes_with_mac
Summary: Which way's home? For Holtz, it's nowhere.
Relationships: Erin Gilbert & Jillian Holtzmann & Patty Tolan & Abby Yates
Comments: 2
Kudos: 18





	I Don't Know Which Way's Home

_Mama,_ _I could use some help here_

The schematics taped to her ceiling blur through unshed tears.

_Tired of talking to myself here_

She only lets her guard down like this when she’s alone.

_Back at home, you don't exist_

None of the others could understand, not really.

_So here I am in the abyss_

They all have families, they can all grab a phone and hear a loved one’s voice, their mothers only a call away.

_Are you really in this place?_

Holtz can only talk to her mother in the shadows and in her head.

_It's like the emptiness of space_

She doesn’t even have a face or a name, only a dog tag strung on a thin chain that she rolls between her fingers.

_I could search for all eternity_

She knows on one level that it wasn’t her fault. It couldn’t have been her fault. 

_And never see your face_

She was only a baby, barely a month old, when a nurse found her swaddled in ragged blankets, with no name, no note, no mother, only a dogtag bearing the name _Holtzmann._

_Help me out_

What makes a woman leave a baby on a doorstep like that? A _baby._

_I'm lost without you_

That’s one problem even she can’t solve.

_Standing_

Her eyes burn and she can’t bring herself to even blink.

_Stuck on this impossible road_

Everything aches. Her heart worst of all.

_No idea which way to go_

There’s no way to move forward. Every path just loops back to here.

_Whichever path I choose_

This empty room and blurry eyes and the one piece of evidence that she ever had a mother at all.

_I lose, you know_

The tag is cold in her hands.

_And I don't know which way's home_

Holtzmann calls an abandoned firehouse home.

_I don't know which way's home_

Even to her unusual mind, that’s pathetic.

_You always saw life as a game_

Abby has been her family for a very long time. Years.

_But since you left, it sucks to play_

But now Abby has other friends. She has someone other than Holtz to keep her company.

_I'm beaten up and bruised_

The imminent threat of being replaced by Erin Gilbert, a physicist who can hold still for more than three seconds, or Patty Tolan, a street-smart historian who can answer the phone coherently every time without even having to write down what she’s going to say hurts almost as badly as the cold burning of the dogtag.

_Confused by rules that alter every day_

There are rules to society, Holtz knows that. Has always known that. But they always seem to change.

_Where to next?_

And she’s the only one who can’t keep up with the changes.

_You left but I'm still standing_

Her hands shake as she studies her ceiling, eyes blurring with more tears as sharp as poison. 

_Spinning on this infinite road_

She should throw the tag out the window and let the endless, sprawling streets of New York devour it into its gaping maw of gutters and boots.

_Terrified of letting you go_

But as much as she loathes her coward of a mother, she can’t bring herself to take her fingers off the tag.

_No light above and there's no hope below_

Up or down, left or right, straight or diagonal, there’s no way out of this crushing prison of lonely abandonment. This never-ending vicious cycle.

_And I don't know which way's home_

There’s no going home because home doesn’t exist for Dr. Jillian Holtzmann. Nowhere will open its doors to her forever. She can practically feel the noose of her time at the firehouse tightening around her slim neck.

_Mom, I've got my heart in my hand_

She strains as hard as she can, praying for a sign. For anything from the woman who represents her only hope - the hope of being found.

_Speak to me and I'll understand_

She’ll hear. She knows she’ll hear. Please. Just one breath.

_One little word to know I'm not alone_

Just let her know she’s not in this cold and angry world by herself.

_And show me the way back home_

There might be a home somewhere.

_Is there a way back home?_

Deep down, she knows it’s not true. There is no fantasy home lurking behind the storm clouds waiting for her. No one is calling her name. No one is missing her. 

_The nothingness ahead of me_

There is only emptiness. The last faint flame of hope is flickering towards extinction in the silence.

_Is this the end you meant for me?_

Is this what you saw, Mom? Is this what you were thinking of when you left me on the steps?

_Every living minute_

She has to believe her mom saw a better life ahead for her when she left her behind. Not this. Not this crushing emptiness.

_There's no home without you in it_

There’s nowhere for her to go. Motherless, friendless, homeless.

_I'm falling_

She’s falling in place, the bed strong beneath her while she slips through nothingness into a gaping black hole.

_Quit stalling_

Running out of time.

_Your daughter is calling your name_

And there’s no sign. No matter how loud she screams into the void. There will be no returning call.

_I've burned all my bridges and came_

“Holtz? Holtzmann, put the machine down, your soup’s getting cold!”

_Abby._

Abby, bustling about the kitchen, soft sweaters that don’t tickle her skin and ponytail bobbing behind her, fussing over a cooling bowl of mediocre soup from the old Chinese place above which they worked, probably surrounded by Erin and Patty, and still missing Holtz.

_I'm gonna go back home_

It’s not enough to fix everything. It’s not enough to take all the pain away. But the tightness in her chest eases and she can breathe again, the sting slipping away from her heavy eyes.

It’s not much, but it is a home. She has somewhere to go, a kitchen where they miss her around the table, and Erin’s voice joining Abby’s confirms that, tandem calls winding up the stairs to her ears and to her heart.

_Abby, Patty, Erin and Kev_

It’s the weirdest little mess of a family, it really is.

_It's messy but they're all that I have_

But Holtz can’t afford to be picky, and she would never leave her adopted family anyway.

_I'll make the best of being flesh and bone_

She feels real again as she pushes off the bed, heading for the door, the promise of soup luring her down the stairs.

_Mama, I'm going home_

Her hand pauses on the doorknob, the metal tag clinking on its chain against the metal.

_Mama, I'm going home_

Her heartbeat echoes in her ears as she stares at it, the name pounding in her head.

_Home_

Then, with one fluid motion, it leaves her hand, clattering against the nightstand and slipping behind it against the wall, hidden behind a block of dark wood.

_I'm going home_

It’s who she was. It’s who she is, maybe. But not who she’s determined to become. A woman who would never leave someone behind.

_Mama, I'm going home_


End file.
